Scavenger Girl: Season of Toridia

by Jennifer Arntson

  I studied the wolf’s bite marks on my hand as I stood lost in the bedroom that would become my new prison. If I knew the requirements leading to that very moment, would I have made the same choices? It’s hard to say. Maybe I’d suffered enough, and the gods would leave me alone.

  “Can we go back to sleep now?” He disrobed, and I succumbed to his invitation.

  I tucked myself under his arm, resting my head on his shoulder, with my hand casually on his chest. He made no attempt to seduce me. We didn’t even share a kiss. His words of the argument hurt, as I was sure mine still did for him. Our pain remained as naked as we were, and the guilt coupled with indignant resolve prevented us from sharing love. I didn’t regret what I thought. I regretted saying it. How could we spew such cruel things at the one we cherished above all others?

  Shut up.

  You weak and withered coward.

  Know your place.

  You’re pathetic.

  Damn you.

  I wiped the tear escaping the corner of my eye, but another fell quickly after onto Calish’s chest.

  He rolled toward me and brushed the hair from my forehead. His chin was taut with emotion to fight back the pools forming in his eyes. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

  I scooted into his embrace and stopped fighting my tears. “I didn’t mean all those awful things I said.”

  His arms squeezed around me, and suddenly, I understood love and fear in a new way. On that first day of Toridia, I vowed to never push my husband to his limits but to be the respite he deserved. We each had enough enemies. I would not be among them.

  * * *

  My eyes fluttered open on the last day of our Lover’s Discovery. Our time slipped away faster than either of us wanted. The next morning my husband would resume his duties, and I would be alone until his return. The thought made me want to shut my eyes to make the time stop, but that strategy never worked.

  I sensed Calish had been awake for quite some time. He was alert while I yawned and had trouble focusing my vision. It used to take him a full cup of tea before anyone could speak to him.

  “Good afternoon.” He ran his fingertips over my warm skin, sending tingles up my shoulder and into the nape of my neck.

  “Isn’t it still morning? It’s so dark.”

  “The curtains in this room work well.” He kissed me on the forehead. “How did you sleep?”

  “Better than I expected to.” My stomach rumbled.

  “The servants brought us breakfast.”

  I sat up to see a tray on the dresser full of food complete with two glasses of juice and a flower. Next to it was a teapot with two cups.

  “But—” I felt my nakedness, realizing the bedsheets still lay crumpled at the foot of the bed. Sitting up with my arms over my breasts, I grabbed the sheet and pulled it over my body in a delayed attempt of modesty.

  Calish chuckled and assured me they didn’t care.

  “I do!” I blushed.

  “They’ve been bringing every meal for us for the last three days. You didn’t notice?”

  “I thought you got it.”

  He shook his head.

  “Why don’t we just go down to the kitchen like everybody else?”

  “Normally, breakfast is served in the dining room unless other arrangements are made. During the Lover’s Discovery, meals are delivered to the room so we can explore each other uninterrupted.”

  “Where did you learn about this custom?”

  He cocked an eyebrow.

  “Noran?”

  Calish sighed.

  “Wait,” I narrowed my eyes, “Merci?”

  He cleared his throat.

  “Merci and you discussed the Lover’s Discovery?” The thought disgusted me.

  He laughed. “My Love, please don’t—”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Ew! Just stop.” I slipped out of bed and reached for the robe.

  Calish sat up and stopped my hand. “Do you need that?”

  “Yes, I do.” I took it and put it on, still sitting on the edge of the bed. He sighed as I staggered into the washroom.

  I’d spent the last several days in bed rolling around in love and sweat. Based on the reflection I saw in the mirror, I’d also been left outside in a terrible windstorm. My hair stood this way and that, parted in six different ways. Running my fingers through the tangled mess or pressing it down didn’t help. With both hands busy with my wild hairstyle, I got a whiff of my underarms, and my face went sour.

  If this is our last full day together, I want to look, and smell, better than this.

  The white marble counters stretched the length of the room, sprawling with beautifully decorated glass bottles of various solutions. The one I chose felt heavier than I assumed it would be. My thumb swept over the etched and carved spirals over the surface, while the molded golden base warmed in my hand. An iridescent liquid with glimmers of silver swirled slowly inside. I removed the stopper, and the subtle scent of a dragon-flower bouquet rose into the room. Careful to put the perfume back where I found it, I smelled a few others, but the scents quickly blended to the point I couldn’t tell them apart anymore. There were so many different liquids, powders, and putty on the surfaces and in the drawers that I wasn’t sure which to use for what.

  I’d been raised with an outhouse. These things looked familiar because I’d seen similar items, although not as many, in Blue’s washroom. The only sink I’d known sat like a submerged bowl in our wooden kitchen counter. Next to the porcelain washbasin we claimed rested a bar of soap made from fats and pressed wildflowers, or reclaimed flakes, and an old tin canister of salt to clean our dishes.

  I refreshed myself with water and a drop of the perfume on a luxurious cloth folded like a fan beside the sink. Using a brush from one of the drawers, I brushed my hair, with the intention of washing it properly later, since my stomach rumbled louder and more aggressively than before.

  The bedroom, dark just moments before, turned rich with sunlight. White and gray patterned linens gleamed in stark contrast to the richly stained wood of the four-poster bed. Drapes, a deep gray, had been peeled away to reveal delicate white sheers beneath. They softened the light pouring in from the six full-length windows along the long wall. They danced in the breeze sneaking through the open panes, airing out the stuffy room, bringing a welcomed newness to my senses. The sound of thunderous rain rolled in from the double doors of the outside wall. Following my intuition, I followed their lead, expecting my husband somewhere beyond.

  Calish sat comfortably, nursing a sizable mug in a cushioned chair next to a well-crafted table. The breakfast tray waited on the mosaic tabletop, a plate and tea laid out for me at a vacant seat. The veranda overlooked the river and lush vegetation, and it granted an unobstructed view of the mountains beyond. The tall roof of the house protected us from the rain, while the shape provided privacy from the neighbors.

  “This is beautiful.”

  Calish put down his cup, startled by my return. “I know. It’s peaceful, isn’t it? I like to have breakfast out here if possible.” He stood to offer me the place he prepared for me. “Would you like some tea?”

  I nodded. “I didn’t know it was raining.”

  He helped me pull the heavy chair nearer to the table to eat and kissed me on the cheek. “There’s a space above the rooms of this house muting the sound. It’s kind of like our loft, but it just stores a bunch of stuff. There were nights I actually forgot it was Hytalia, not that you’d be able to tell it’s the first day of Toridia with a downpour like this.”

  “There are more than two levels in this house?”

  “Oh yes.” He sat and picked up a piece of dried fruit. “And there’s a basement.”

  “Basement?”

  “It’s more rooms underground, like the burrow we made for you, but a lot nicer and not flooded,” he said as he ate. “I should take you on a tour of the house today.”

  “If you must.” I sighed.

  “What?”

  “
I don’t want to see anyone else, especially Reinick or Noran. I’d rather just stay in here with you.”

  He licked the sugar off his finger. “Why would you see either of them?”

  “They live here too, don’t they?” I took a bite of the muffin.

  Calish shuddered. “Good gods, no! They have their own houses.”

  “So, who lives here with you?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” I clarified. “Only me?”

  He knew by my tone exactly where this conversation was leading, so he didn’t reply.

  “I’m sorry.” We’d agreed not to discuss the current plight of the Citizens, and his defensive posture reinforced our decision. “Perhaps I should make an appointment with the lord of the lands when he returns to duty.”

  Calish drank the rest of his tea and set the cup on the table. He knew it would be impossible for me to wait until the next meal, let alone a scheduled meeting to hold my tongue. “How about a tour?” He stood and offered his hand.

  “Shouldn’t we get dressed?” I brushed away the crumbs that fell onto the lapel of the plush robe.

  “Why? As you pointed out, we’re the only ones who live here.”

  “There’s nothing better to do, I guess.” I stood.

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that.” He smiled, taking my hand and growling in my ear. He made me giggle, but I knew we would agree that our bodies needed a few hours of recovery after all the time alone we shared.

  He decided to start from the basement and make our way back to the bedroom. It amazed me how much larger the house was than it appeared from the outside. The decor and furnishings of each room reflected an appreciation for whites and contrast, art and geometry. Whoever lived here before was not only wealthy but also had a taste for useless things. In the common areas, ostentatious paintings hung on the walls, and every room and hallway had at least one grand mirror with a lavishly carved frame. I paid little attention to them, though. All they seemed to do was make a big room look bigger, and as I’d already taken note of how terrible I looked, I disregarded them as mere distractions. I found myself far more interested in a house’s potential than its unnecessary contents.

  As we finished up on the main floor, Calish stole a piece of dried meat off the dining room table.

  “What about the kitchen?” I asked.

  “Oh, you want to see that, too?”

  I nodded, and he led me back to where the servants busied themselves with their tasks. When we rounded the corner, they promptly stopped what they were doing and bowed. “Good day, Lord.”

  “Good day,” he greeted. “I wanted to properly introduce you to my wife, Una.” He put his arm around me. “Una, this is Qarla.” The woman who’d loaned me her ring bowed. “And Sterle.” A girl not much older than me bowed. “And this is Jeorge.” A nicely dressed man bowed.

  “I apologize for my behavior this morning. It wasn’t, nor, will it ever be my intention, to make you uncomfortable.” I bowed back. “I have much to learn.”

  Calish took my hand and silently thanked me for trying to play the role I unknowingly accepted. “I know it’s not proper, but would you consider addressing my wife as myself in my company?”

  “Sir?” Jeorge seemed confused by the request.

  “Una and I hope to start our family as soon as the gods allow—”

  “Or sooner,” I interjected.

  Calish chuckled. “If the gods find favor with us, I assume she will require some assistance with our children. It would be much easier if you all got along without me, if the situation presents itself.”

  Qarla shifted uncomfortably. “We lack the skills of a proper nursemaid or nanny, my Lord.”

  The two of us were unaware such a role existed. I glanced up at Calish, unsure how to respond. He handled it with ease. “I wouldn’t trust anyone more than I do the three of you. I’m sure you’ll agree, the world is not what it used to be, and I am quite protective of Una. I cannot imagine how I would feel about my child.”

  “Yes, sir,” they answered in unison.

  There was a moment of silence, and no one knew how to break it. I chewed on my lower lip, while Calish cleared his throat.

  Shouldn’t someone say something?

  No one did. When the teapot whistled, Sterle beat the others to fetch it. Removing it from the stovetop, she hesitated, checking over her shoulder to see if we were still standing there. She would have stayed there too if Jeorge didn’t wave her to fall into line with him and Qarla. She hustled back to her place and straightened her skirt, making sure to keep her eyes focused at our feet.

  The tension became too much. I had to break the silence. “Tell me, are you all family?”

  The three of them exchanged uncomfortable glances. “No, my Lord.” Jeorge grimaced. “We are not related.”

  “Where are your families?”

  I regretted the question the moment it left my lips. What if their loved ones died in the landslide? If I could have slapped myself in the face for stupidity, I would have. As awkward as things already were, I was glad I didn’t. They glanced up at Calish individually but stayed quiet. Perhaps it was better that way; I was worse at starting a conversation than they were at having one.

  “Maybe we should continue the tour?” Calish suggested, and I nodded my reply. He bid them good day, encouraging them to consider his request in the future, noting for everyone’s benefit it may take some time. Holding my hand, he escorted me upstairs. “There are five rooms up here. We call them suites,” he informed me. “They each have their own washroom and dressing closet. These are like ours, the master room, but smaller.”

  “Smaller,” I scoffed, stepping into the first room. There it was: the obligatory mirror and hanging art. The bed draped with white and pearl blue accents had no less than a dozen pillows stacked near the headboard. How many people did they expect to fit in a bed that size? The pillows didn’t appear to be useful with all the raised embellishments and gems sewn onto the surfaces. An upholstered wing-backed chair and ottoman sat in the corner next to a silver-plated end table, for what reason I had no clue. But the dresser, with eight empty drawers, made my head spin.

  Calish offered to show me the washroom, and I responded with my usual snark. “Let me guess. Big bathtub, toilet, sink, and counter with fancy bobbles on top?”

  He didn’t appreciate my assumption and continued my tour. The room had a window overlooking the front gate of the neighborhood. I gazed through the glass, observing not only the activity of the guarded community but what lay beyond it. The rains had lightened up and allowed me to study the lower portion of the road leading up the hill.

  With my bare feet nestled into soft dry carpet, I imagined what one of the unlucky many felt beneath theirs. The roads littered with makeshift residences stretched as far as the eye could see. Their feet stood on rock, mud, and trash. One of them might even be the owner of this property.

  Was the owner.

  Calish wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder, and we stared out the window together.

  “There are so many struggling people out there.”

  “I know,” he said somberly.

  “Tell me you’re doing something about it.”

  “I’m trying,” he replied. “It’ll be easier now you’re here with me.”

  “Promise me you’ll fix this.”

  Calish turned me toward him. “I won’t promise I’ll do it,” he paused, “but I will promise to try.”

  Chapter 2

  I should be happy.

  Everything I’ve ever wanted, or thought I wanted, had come true in the span of three seasons. First, I wanted to avoid the Seller’s Stage. And I did. Then, I wanted more than anything to be with Calish. And I was. I also wanted my family to be safe, to be free from the judgment and power of the Authority, to be accepted, and to have the same rights the Citizens had. And it seemed that they were. As I said, I should have been happy; at the very least, I should have been cont
ent.

  Calish spent most of his days away from the house, trying to put some structure to the suddenly broken world. The last few moon cycles had pushed away the clouds of Hytalia and ushered in Toridia, the hottest season of the year. The rains stopped, and the groundwater began to evaporate. The humid air thickened, creating an uncomfortable weighted layer of misery and perspiration. The river was still full of debris, and many of the wells were inoperable. Finding potable water grew more difficult. The only thing worse than being hot was being thirsty.

  In years past, the river would fall low, but with the change in landscape since the landslide, it didn’t run freely once it lowered. It pooled against a natural dam formed at the west end of the valley. The river slowly became a lake in what used to be the center of town. From the balcony of the master bedroom, I saw Citizens flocking to the river-now-lake to stay cool since the shade of the woods grew too dangerous to enter.

  I spent my days and nights safe behind the custom-made doors of an immaculate mansion built for two. While I tried to convince my husband to let me out, he lovingly refused. “The village and everything around it are too violent. Now you’re my wife, it’s worse for you than anyone else.”

  With no access to food, and limited resources and abilities, the Citizens living on the streets had turned their energy against each other. Women were attacked and raped in broad daylight, and men fought to the death over rumors of bread or useful possessions. Children were orphaned, exploited, and abused. Calish said some stole for the promises of a new family or in exchange for protection, while others were bought and sold for unspeakable purposes.

  He said in all of this, people found new reasons to hate each other. Instead of looking for solutions, they searched out new ways to display their rage. Tired of crying out to the gods to save them, they cursed them, challenged them, and provoked them. They didn’t respond, and nothing improved, nor were they punished for their blasphemy. With no accountability from the heavens and nothing to lose, the darkest side of humanity emerged. It seemed as if the faith forced upon the people of Ashlund washed away with the rest of the village. Now, like everything else, religion lay dying from exposure. Every day, the hopelessness pushed the people further from a healthy recovery and plummeted us all toward a primitive, cruel, and lawless society.